"Crack."
Thin tendrils of frost shot from Merlin's fingers, swiftly encircling the alchemical construct of the red-robed mage. In an instant, the construct froze solid, its entire body stiffening before shattering like a fragile eggshell, scattering debris across the ground.
"This... this is Pandora's Spell?"
The red-robed mage, though shaken, immediately recognized the signature of the coveted Pandora's Spell. It was the very power he had dreamed of obtaining, but seeing it in action filled him with both awe and terror. The sheer lethality of this spell was far beyond his capacity to resist.
"Retreat!"
He knew that challenging Merlin was a mistake. If his prized alchemical construct could be destroyed so effortlessly, how could he possibly stand a chance? Alchemical mages poured much of their strength into their creations, so the destruction of his construct left him vulnerable and powerless.
"**Darklight Domain!**"
Merlin, however, had no intention of letting him escape. His frustrations over failing to locate Raiseen had left him in a foul mood, and the red-robed mage had foolishly provoked him at the worst possible time.
Around them, the light twisted and warped, plunging the surroundings into absolute darkness. The red-robed mage and his two allies were engulfed in an oppressive void where even their magical senses failed them. The enhanced **Darklight Domain**, amplified by Merlin's **Heart of Darkness**, was no mere first-level spell; it had a potency capable of ensnaring even seasoned third-level mages in a labyrinth of illusions.
Trapped within this impenetrable domain, the trio flailed helplessly, their minds overwhelmed by a cascade of cascading illusions.
"**Fire!**"
At Merlin's command, a pure white flame flared to life within the darkness. The contrast was striking—ethereal light amidst the void—but the beauty belied its destructive power. The flame enveloped the trapped mages, igniting them with unrelenting ferocity. In moments, their forms were reduced to ashes, obliterated by the second Pandora's Spell in Merlin's arsenal: **Collapsing Fire**.
As the flames and domain dissipated, Merlin stood amidst the calm, brushing his hands clean as though he had merely disposed of some minor inconvenience.
"Samir, are you certain you know nothing of Raiseen's whereabouts?"
Samir, still reeling from witnessing Merlin's effortless elimination of three powerful mages, felt a chill run through him. Each time he encountered Merlin, the latter's power seemed to have leaped to new heights.
The trio Merlin had dispatched were no ordinary opponents. Each was a formidable third-level mage with alchemical constructs that made them a dominant force in Floating City. Yet, against Merlin, they had been reduced to little more than a fleeting annoyance.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Samir replied, "Raiseen's movements are notoriously secretive. Even I couldn't tell you where he is now. I swear I have no knowledge of his current location."
Merlin's keen eyes scrutinized Samir's expression for any sign of deceit. Finding none, he finally sighed and relented. "Very well. If you hear anything about him, inform me immediately. I'll remain in Floating City for a while to continue my search."
"You have my word, Merlin. If I learn anything, you'll be the first to know," Samir replied, his tone unusually deferential. The disparity in their power left him no room for his usual arrogance.
Turning to Anlena, Merlin said, "It seems I'll need to rely on your family's resources to track Raiseen."
Still awestruck by Merlin's performance, Anlena nodded, a mixture of admiration and wariness in her eyes. "If Raiseen has been in Floating City, my family, the Delman Clan, will find him. I guarantee it."
"Good. Let's head there now," Merlin replied tersely. Without another glance at the ruins of the confrontation, he strode away, Anlena following close behind.
---
Once Merlin and Anlena had gone, Samir exhaled heavily, his shoulders sagging with relief. Looking toward the direction they had disappeared, he murmured, "Raiseen... What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into? If Merlin finds you, your fate is sealed."
---
Outside a nondescript courtyard in Floating City, a sleek, black carriage pulled to a stop. The property had been quietly purchased months ago by an unknown buyer, yet no one had been seen entering or leaving. Its mystery had piqued the curiosity of the surrounding residents, though their interest eventually waned.
Now, with the carriage's arrival, their attention was reignited. As the gate creaked open, a frail, elderly mage emerged from within the courtyard, moving with surprising urgency toward the carriage.
"Master has returned..." one onlooker murmured.
Moments later, a strikingly handsome young man stepped out of the carriage. His golden-brown hair cascaded over his shoulders, and his long boots clicked sharply against the stone path. His cold demeanor suggested he was no ordinary mage.
The elderly mage greeted him with a deep bow before ushering him into the courtyard.
Once inside, the young man seated himself on a stone chair, his sharp eyes narrowing as they settled on the elderly mage. "You must be Raiseen, the peripheral member stationed here."
The old mage, trembling slightly, responded with utmost deference. "Yes, my lord Vis. I am Raiseen, a peripheral member of Ossem. I have received orders to assist you with your mission in Floating City."
Vis, a full-fledged member of Ossem, let out a soft, derisive chuckle. To him, peripheral members like Raiseen were expendable tools, far beneath his notice. He leaned back, his tone dripping with disdain. "Do you think a mere peripheral member like you is qualified to question the nature of my mission?"
Raiseen swallowed hard, hiding his growing unease. His long-standing affiliation with Ossem had brought him benefits, but it had also made him painfully aware of the risks. Missions assigned by Ossem's core members often ended with peripheral members like himself serving as little more than disposable pawns.
This was especially true now. Raiseen had recently acquired the method for cultivating a Pandora's Spell but lacked the rare materials needed to proceed. Disillusioned by his failed attempts, he had been laying low when he received orders from Ossem to assist Vis.
Still, Raiseen dared not voice his frustrations. Instead, he nodded subserviently, replying, "Of course, my lord. I await your orders."
Vis smirked coldly, his eyes gleaming with malice. Raiseen could feel a storm brewing, and he had no doubt that whatever Ossem's plans entailed, they would bring danger to Floating City—and likely spell his own doom.